Pretty Magical Revolutionary Knight Nunnally
by Keith Fraser
Summary: To save her brother's life, Nunnally accepts a gift from a cat inhabited by the spirit of the legendary Emperor Arthur and becomes a magical girl. Together, they set out to free Britannia's oppressed subjects and redeem the nation's fallen honour.


_**Disclaimer: **__Code Geass is the property of Sunrise, Bandai et al. No money is being made from this fanfic and it will be removed if the above parties so request. All your base are belong to us._

**Notes: **This...fairly cracky fic was heavily influenced by a certain series about young girls making friends through superior firepower. While not a crossover (or requiring any knowledge of said series), it could nonetheless be given the alternate title _Magical Girl Lyrical Nunnally_. Enjoy...

**Pretty Magical Revolutionary Knight Nunnally  
>Chapter 1<strong>

Suzaku tackled Lelouch to the ground the instant the battered capsule began to open, shoving his gas mask over his face as they were illuminated by a bright light.

"Does that look like poison gas to you?" Lelouch asked pointedly, indicating what lay inside.

"Is that a...cat?"

/**/

Arthur reached out with his arcane senses at the two youths standing over him, catching the scent of the Britannian royal bloodline. It wasn't the same prince who had imprisoned him, and he sensed bewilderment and anger; the royal family must be at odds with each other yet again.

_A prince is no good, _he thought. _Perhaps he can point me in the direction of someone from the female line who could...aha! _Probing the Eleventh Prince's - Lelouch's - mind, he found what he was looking for, then cocked his head to catch the signature across Tokyo. _Perfect!_

With supernatural speed, Arthur raced past the two gaping young men, who saw only a blur. When he was clear of the tunnel, he launched himself clear out of Shinjuku on a ballistic trajectory for Ashford Academy.

/**/

"Oh! Look at the kitty!"

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!"

"Ow!"

"Watch it!"

Nunnally turned in the direction of the voices up the corridor from the alcove where she had parked her wheelchair to wait for the usual end-of-the-day crush in the school halls to clear a little. The mixture of excited cooing and annoyed shouts got closer, with a couple of thuds as someone fell and a skitter of claws along the marble floor, then a warm, live, fluffy shape landed in her lap. Surprised but not particularly alarmed, she carefully lifted her hand to stroke the cat. It meowed and licked her fingers, and she smiled.

"Hello there. Are you lost?" The hubbub of voices died down a little as people went back to their business, except for a few girls standing around to exclaim over the cat. "Stay here a while, or someone might trip over you. Are you hungry?" The cat seemed disinclined to move, either because her voice had soothed it or because it had found a warm place to curl up. That was all right; she had nowhere she needed to be. She stroked along the soft fur of the cat's back, and found what felt like a collar or chain. It must belong to someone, she thought, a little sadly; if it hadn't, perhaps Lelouch would have let her keep it as a pet.

_Nunnally._

"Sorry, who said that?" Usually she could tell where a noise was coming from or identify a speaker easily, but this voice was unfamiliar and seemed not to be coming from any direction.

"Who said what?" a nearby girl asked.

"I thought I heard my name."

_I am speaking to you inside your mind. Do not reply out loud, just think._

_Who are you?_ Nunnally wondered if she was cracking up. She was answered by a meow and the cat's head butting against her hand. _Wait, you're..._

_Yes, I am a cat, much to my displeasure. Time is short; please listen to what I have to say if you want to save your brother._

_Oniisama? Is he in danger?_ Nunnally's heart lurched painfully. Lelouch was probably out gambling again...he could have got himself into all sorts of trouble if someone powerful took exception to losing too many times.

_Yes - mortal danger. But I can help you rescue him if you do exactly as I say._

_Me? Wh__at can I do?_

_More than you can possibly imagine. Let me show you._

Abruptly, she was in a rocky tunnel, lit by a warm golden glow from somewhere ahead. Nunnally raised a hand to her face with a gasp, blinking.

"I can see!" She moved her foot, realizing she was standing upright for the first time in more than seven years. "I can walk! How..."

_"You are inside my mind," _the cat's voice said from the direction of the light,_ "__and I have removed the seal on your eyes__. With what I am about to give you, you will be able to walk in the physical world as well. Now, follow my voice."_

Nunnally's mind whirled with questions, but she held them back - if Lelouch was in danger, then that took priority. Clutching at the wall in fear of collapsing at any moment, she took a few hesitant steps toward the light. Her confidence built as her legs remained steady, and she increased her pace. The tunnel quickly opened into a larger cavern, filled with men sleeping on flat stone slabs, armoured in plate and chainmail with helmets at their feet, swords resting on their chests beneath clasped hands. The sight stirred vague memories of something, perhaps a story she had heard when she was very small, but she dismissed the thought as irrelevant for the moment.

_"Over here, child."_

She turned towards the source of the illumination, and saw a sword embedded almost to the hilt in a block of stone the size of a man, gems on the gilded hilt glowing with a fierce white light. Below the stone, one of the sleepers was sitting up. He was older than the rest with a silver-grey beard falling to his waist, dressed in robes of rich wool and a white fur cloak instead of armour and wearing a crown on his head. His eyes, narrowed and piercing beneath thick eyebrows, were an oddly familiar shade of dark purple.

"Quickly, Nunnally. Take up the sword and you can save your brother's life." The old man's rich, deep voice was the same one she had been listening to all along, and it too, she now realized, was frustratingly familiar, or at least reminiscent of something familiar. He gestured to the stone behind him.

"I don't understand," Nunnally said. "I can't - I don't know how to fight." The blade looked too heavy for her to so much as swing once, even if she could walk to use it and could somehow get it out of the stone. There was clearly magic or something of the sort at work here, but the idea of her being able to protect her brother by actually fighting herself - with a sword! - was just too unbelievable.

"That will not matter; Excalibur will take care of you. All that is needed is your spirit and your will, which are more than adequate. You are a true heir to my blood."

"Heir?" Something clicked at that, and the name of the sword. "You're-"

"Yes." He smiled, those distinctive purple eyes softening, and she recognized aspects of her brothers, her sisters, and even her father in his face and voice and bearing. "Greetings, many-times great-granddaughter."

"Emperor Ar-" She mentally shook herself and focused on the task at hand. "All right. I'll try."

"Good girl."

Nunnally hurried over to the great rock. The old man - her ancestor - helped her up the side, and she grasped the hilt of the embedded sword with both hands. A warm jolt passed up her arms as she touched it, but it refused to budge when she yanked at it. She tried again, gritting her teeth at the pain the effort sent through her arms. "What do I do? I'm not strong enough!"

"Physical strength is not important here, Nunnally; only will. Focus on that which you need to protect."

That was easy enough - thoughts of her big brother instantly filled her mind. She saw him in her mind's eye as a child, running after her through the Aries Palace gardens and carrying her home on his back the time she fell and hurt her knee. She remembered his voice gently soothing away her tears and screams as she vented frustration over her injuries and blindness, or coaxing her to eat and get dressed and go outside when she would rather do nothing but lie in black depression all day, or raised in anger at anyone who called her weak or worthless. His hands lovingly brushing out her hair, or holding her own hand as she fell asleep. The taste of his exquisite cooking, which he had learned and perfected for her. Everything he had done for her without ever expecting anything in return.

Then she tried to imagine living in a world without him in it, him dying in an alley somewhere at the hands of thugs or some angry noble's retainers. The edges of her vision turned red, her throat closed up and her heart raced. For her to be left alone - for someone as good as him to be gone from the world - that couldn't be borne. She would sooner die - sooner do anything to save him. Letting out a scream to match the roaring in her ears, Nunnally hauled on the sword's hilt again, and this time she felt it give. Its light grew blinding, and as it slid free energy flowed over her, resolving into physical form, changing her-

/**/

Some of the more curious or observant students in the corridor saw Nunnally Lamperouge touch the small sword-shaped trinket hanging from the bedraggled grey cat's collar. None of them connected what happened next to that event; the burst of light that blazed from the alcove was much too bright to make out its exact source. The crackling arcs of energy that followed shattered the window behind Nunnally, made the hair of everyone in a twenty-metre radius stand on end, and blew out every fuse and every piece of electronics in the building.

No-one witnessed a taller, otherworldly figure stand up from Nunnally's wheelchair amid the broken glass and flying sparks, the grey cat clinging to its shoulder, and disappear out of the window in a rush of wind.

/**/

"Impressive that you managed to make it this far, but I suppose that's to be expected of a Britannian. Any last words, son? Your family'll be told you were murdered by the terrorists, I expect."

Nunnally's face flashed before Lelouch's eyes as he stared defiantly and silently into the levelled muzzle of the officer's gun. The knowledge that he had failed her wrenched at his heart. He was backed up by a line of blank-faced guardsmen against a still-standing wall inside a warehouse bare except for corpses, with no cover he could reach before they mowed him down. If only...

"No? Oh well."

The shot rang out incredibly loud, a flash obscured Lelouch's vision, but he found after a second that he was still breathing. The shooter was blocked from his view by a mass of golden hair flowing from under a white helmet, and his subordinates could be seen gaping around the shoulders of the person who had somehow appeared right in front of him with their arms spread protectively, so close they were almost touching him.

"Leave," he heard them say in a very dangerous female voice. In answer, the officer barked an order, and the whole squad raised their guns. Lelouch dropped to the ground, trying to drag his rescuer with him but finding her too solid to shift.

/**/

Captain Powell of Prince Clovis' Royal Guard stared in bewilderment, his brain resolutely trying to protest that what his eyes had just seen was utterly impossible. He had fired a perfect headshot at the hapless, unmoving schoolboy in front of him. Then, in the interval between the bullet leaving the gun and reaching the target, a figure had crashed through the roof of the warehouse and interposed itself in front of the boy. He had clearly seen the shot strike the newcomer's forehead...and ricochet off as if it had hit a Knightmare's chest armour.

The interloper was a woman - a very beautiful woman, part of his brain noted absently, with shining honey-coloured hair flowing past her waist and rippling in the wind stirred up by her abrupt arrival, pale violet eyes glaring furiously at him from a strong-featured face. She was tall and broad-shouldered enough to completely obscure the rather scrawny student behind her...and dressed like something out of a children's fairytale in gold-decorated white armour made of dozens of interlocking plates covering her from head to toe, a wide ankle-length skirt with an incongruously frilled hem visible underneath where the plates divided below her hips. Stylized wings rose from the sides of her helmet and were emblazoned on her breastplate, and white and gold ribbons festooned her armour, snapping in the breeze.

"Leave," the woman ordered, bringing her hands together to grip the sword she had been holding in her right. Her armoured fingers flexed on the hilt, and the blade - almost as long as she was tall - glowed with a deadly blue-white light.

Captain Powell shook himself out of his stupor. "Fire!" he ordered. "Shoot them both!"

His men opened fire in a ragged volley which the armoured woman made no effort to evade. Dozens of bullets flattened harmlessly against her armour, her uncovered face or even the fabric of her skirt, and ricocheted away or fell to the ground. Meanwhile, her sword flashed with impossible speed, intercepting every bullet that would have missed her and emerging equally undamaged.

"Leave!" she roared above the last few shots as magazines began to run empty. "Please! I won't tell you again!"

"Fan out! Reload!" he shouted - she couldn't cover all angles at once. Whatever that armour was made of (he studiously ignored the fact that she didn't even seem to need it), it must have a weak spot, and at least they could get the boy. He pulled out his radio to call for backup - she couldn't possibly stand up to Knightmare weapons.

She appeared in front of him without even seeming to cross the intervening distance, and the last thought he had before his head parted from his body was how...sad she looked.

/**/

Lelouch raised the gun he had taken from the nearest body and shot one of the two remaining soldiers as he tried to draw a bead on the impossibly fast-moving woman who had demolished an entire squad of armed men in less than twenty seconds. The bullet spun him round, then he went down as Lelouch fired again to be sure, even as his comrade collapsed in a spray of red. Lelouch's saviour flowed past the dying man and came to a controlled stop in a crouch, sword parallel to the ground. A single drop of blood fell from the point and splashed into the dust.

"I don't know who you are, but thank you," he said, mind working furiously. Did this woman know who he really was? Was that why she had protected him? Did someone have agents following him everywhere?

"Oniisama...you're safe..." She leant on her sword, eyes darting from side to side, taking shallow breaths. Her voice, no longer low and deadly, was suddenly shockingly familiar. He looked at her more closely.

"Nunnally?" Lelouch's voice cracked; he could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses, and didn't want to. Perhaps only he could have identified the bloodstained, armoured, thoroughly grown-up woman before him as his little sister - she was so changed that only subtle things gave her identity away. But there was something indefinably familiar in the shape of her face even with every trace of childish roundness erased, the pale violet hue of her eyes, and the stricken look that gradually crowded out the ferocity she had displayed as she fought.

"Oniisama..." Nunnally dropped to her knees, eyes wide and staring at nothing; her sword clattered to the ground. "Oh God...I...I killed them all..." She lifted her bloodstained hands.

"Nunnally!" Lelouch rushed over to support her before she collapsed - he expected her to be heavy, not least from the weight of her armour, but she felt as light as a feather in his arms. "Ssh, it's all right. Don't look." He pulled her against him, hiding the sight of the dead bodies all around.

"They wouldn't stop...I couldn't...couldn't protect you and disarm them. I had to...didn't I?" Whimpering, Nunnally clutched at him with rib-cracking strength. To his shock and alarm, her armour and clothing faded away in a soft wash of light...then her altered body vanished in turn, and he was left holding her familiar small, slender form dressed in her school uniform. She raised her head from his shoulder, and he realized even as they filled with tears that her eyes were still open.

"Yes," he said firmly. "You saved my life; there was no other way. How-"

Before he could phrase any of his many questions, there was a thundering crash and part of one wall of the warehouse collapsed. Lelouch curled tightly around Nunnally to protect her as a Sutherland Knightmare rolled inside.

"You! Identify yourselves!" a female voice barked from the loudspeaker.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Omake: Pretty Magical Revolutionary Knight Nunnally Says**

"You should always be kind to stray cats and other animals," Nunnally said from her wheelchair, petting Arthur with a smile. "These small creatures deserve our love and affection."

"Also, they might turn out to be from the moon, harbouring the spirit of your distant ancestor, or a polymorphed archaeologist from another dimension and give you cool magical powers," Lelouch pointed out from offscreen.

"Yes, that too," Nunnally conceded.

**Om****ake 2 (with apologies to the Pythons)**

"What is your name!" demanded the elderly bridgekeeper.

"Nunnally vi Britannia," Nunnally replied firmly, seething with impatience.

"What is your quest?"

"To seek the Holy Grail."

"What is your favourite colour?"

"How the hell should I know?" she demanded. "I was blind until about thirty seconds ago!"

"Gets 'em every time," the Old Man From Scene 24 chuckled as he watched Nunnally get hurled screaming into the ravine below.


End file.
